


FBI

by Jojora



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, I can't write non-angsty fics, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:44:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojora/pseuds/Jojora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Oliver getting a job with the FBI because of his hacking skills and Connor freaking out about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So excited that I got a new prompt and I get to write even more Coliver angst. Sorry in advance because it's going to be super heartbreaking, I can just feel it.
> 
> Send prompt requests to jojoraprompts.tumblr.com

Connor nervously entered his apartment. It had just been a normal Friday up until Oliver had texted him at work, an ominous text saying that he had something to tell Connor. Connor had called Oliver as soon as he got out of court, but Oliver insisted that they talk face to face and refused to give any hints other than saying, “it’s good news, I promise.”

When he walked in, Oliver was lighting a candle and had apparently prepared a fancy dinner for them, which was laid out on the table. He looked up at Connor and beamed, pulling out a chair for Connor to sit.

“What’s all this?” Connor asked with a tentative smile as he sat down in the chair.

“A celebration dinner!” Oliver said as though it was completely obvious. He sat down across from Connor and looked at him with eager childlike eyes.

“It looks great. But what are we celebrating?”

Oliver just broke out into a large grin. Connor couldn’t help but smile back at how excited Oliver looked. His mood was infectious.

“Tell me!” Connor said with a laugh.

“Oh c’mon. Just let me have my moment,” Oliver huffed jokingly. Connor raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed. “Fine. I got a new job!”

Connor smiled. “That’s great! Congratulations!” He paused for a moment, and then narrowed his eyes at Oliver playfully. “It’s not with Annalise, is it?” he asked jokingly. It had been a point of contention with them for a while, but finally Oliver had agreed to drop it and now Connor felt comfortable joking about it.

“No, not with Annalise,” Oliver said in an exaggerated voice of frustration. But his grin was immediately back again. “It’s so much cooler,” he gushed.

Connor smirked. “Did you get hired by the CIA or something?” he asked sarcastically.

“The FBI, actually,” Oliver retorted.

Connor laughed, but Oliver didn’t. 

“Wait, you’re serious?” Connor asked incredulously. His stomach was suddenly in knots at the idea and his heart rate quickened dramatically. But Oliver just looked so happy and proud, so Connor swallowed it down and tried to put on a happy face.

Oliver blushed a little. “I am,” he said, and this time his smile was shy and nervous.

“That’s –“ Connor started, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you were even applying for something like that.”

“I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t think I had an actual chance,” Oliver replied. “And then when I got the interview, I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up just to have to say I didn’t get it. I still can’t believe they actually chose me.”

“I can,” Connor said, staring at Oliver and making Oliver blush again.

Oliver grinned again. “So, let’s eat!”

Connor nodded and reached for his knife and fork, but he had absolutely no appetite. He picked at his food and listened to Oliver chat excitedly about what the job entailed and how much he would get paid and such, but inwardly, he felt like the world was crashing down around him.

When dinner was over, Connor cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Are you okay?” Oliver asked as he put the leftovers in the fridge.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Connor turned around to look at Oliver, but found it took extra effort to make eye contact.

“It’s just, you were really quiet through dinner and you hardly ate anything.”

“It was just a long day,” Connor lied. “But tonight is about you.” He took the couple of steps across the kitchen and laced his hands behind Oliver’s neck. Oliver responded by wrapping his own arms around Connor’s waist. 

Oliver kissed him, and then pulled back and bit his lip. “Don’t I get some sort of reward?” he asked with a fake innocence in his voice.

Connor quirked an eyebrow at him as he let one of his hands wander from Oliver’s neck to his chest, his finger drawing a circle on Oliver’s shirt, internally grateful for the distraction. “Sure,” he drawled. “What did you have in mind?”

Oliver just leaned in again and kissed him hard.

Later that night, Connor fidgeted with the blanket as he looked at Oliver, who was fast asleep beside him. The moment Oliver had fallen asleep, Connor’s façade had fallen. He was a nervous wreck and his heart was breaking. Oliver couldn’t join the FBI. There were so many ways this could end so terribly. The FBI could use Oliver to get to Annalise and the rest of them, or Annalise could become paranoid and make Oliver disappear, or Oliver could eventually figure things out and report back to the FBI. No matter what, all the scenarios ended extremely badly.

He didn’t sleep much at all that night, and when the sun started to rise the next morning he was already awake. He rolled out of bed, unable to lie there any longer.

“It’s 5am on a Saturday,” Oliver groaned as he looked up at the clock. “Why are you getting out of bed?”

“I’m just going to the bathroom. Go back to sleep,” Connor said softly.

Oliver’s head collapsed back down. “Mkay,” he muttered, already drifting back into sleep.

Connor quietly got dressed and tiptoed out of the apartment. He didn’t have any particular destination in mind, and he just wandered around the neighborhood for a couple of hours. It was cold outside and starting to snow, and he was only wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. His face and fingers felt like ice by the time he finally came back inside.

“Connor!” Oliver exclaimed as he walked inside. “Where were you? It’s freezing out there!”

“You don’t say?” Connor muttered grumpily as he toed his shoes off and went to the kitchen, still shivering. Oliver handed him a cup of hot coffee which he accepted gratefully.

“What were you doing, anyway?” Oliver asked.

Connor shrugged and sipped his coffee, ignoring the question for a second time. He didn’t really have a good answer because he hadn’t been doing anything or going anywhere. He just couldn’t be here.

Oliver looked at him curiously, but dismissed it.

“I know you probably have school work to do this weekend, but I was hoping maybe we could go out and do something later?” Oliver asked hopefully.

“Yeah, sure. I have to go meet up with Michaela on something for Annalise this morning, but after that I’m free.” Connor was lying, he had nothing to do for work today, but he needed Michaela’s opinion on how to handle this predicament that was currently gnawing at his insides.

“Great,” Oliver smiled.

Connor rinsed out his mug and then gave Oliver a hasty kiss on the cheek. “See you this afternoon.” He ran out quickly, trying to get away from Oliver as quick as possible.

When Michaela opened her door to Connor, she was less than welcoming, grumbling about how she did not want to spend her day off listening to Connor’s relationship drama. But as soon as Connor told her that Oliver was joining the FBI, she fell silent and ushered him inside. Then they just sat there quietly, drinking beers that Michaela had gotten out of the fridge. The silence stretched on for what seemed like forever. Finally, Michaela spoke up.

“He can’t do it,” she said quietly, as though someone would overhear her even though they were alone in her apartment.

Connor looked at her helplessly. “I’ve never seen him so excited about anything,” he muttered.

“Connor,” Michaela’s tone was incredibly serious and she didn’t even have to finish her sentence before Connor nodded. He already knew everything she wanted to say because it was everything he had spent all night thinking about. 

“Yeah, I know.” Connor put down his beer bottle and closed his eyes. He felt Michaela’s hand grab his and give a reassuring squeeze.

Connor stayed with Michaela for a few hours, and when she finally kicked him out, he left to find a bar. He simply wasn’t ready to face Oliver again. Around 4pm, his phone rang and Oliver’s face popped up on the screen, but he ignored the call and ordered another drink.


	2. Chapter 2

Connor didn’t head home until several missed calls later, when it was extremely late at night and he had let himself sober up from his day drinking. He knew that Oliver was going to be pissed about being stood up for their afternoon celebratory date, but in the grand scheme of things about to affect their relationship, that was low on the list of things Connor worried about.

Oliver was watching TV and he turned it off when Connor walked in.

“You’re back late,” Oliver said flatly.

Connor nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Work emergency,” he lied.

“I tried calling you,” Oliver responded in a slightly accusatory tone.

“We were with a client.”

“There wasn’t a single moment in the day where you could have stepped out and called me back?” Oliver asked skeptically.

“I’m sorry.” Connor shrugged dismissively. He could tell Oliver was gearing up for a fight, but he already felt so broken and didn’t have it in him to argue about this without Oliver realizing that things weren't okay. Instead, he turned and headed for the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for bed. Thankfully, Oliver didn’t follow him or say anything further. When he got out of the shower, Oliver had taken a pillow and blanket and curled up on the couch. It was a clear statement that he was angry with Connor.

Connor sighed and got into bed, turning off the light and trying to ignore his urge to curl up and cry or go beg for Oliver's comfort. There was nothing he could do about this situation right now. He didn’t know what to do at all, to be honest.

He got up the next morning and heard the shower running, which meant Oliver was already up. He reluctantly rolled out of bed and dragged himself to the kitchen to make himself coffee. When Oliver came out, he pretended Connor wasn’t even there as he grabbed his own coffee and a box of cereal.

Connor cringed at Oliver’s coldness, but didn’t say anything or try to break the ice. It wasn’t that he wanted to be fighting with Oliver or that he didn’t feel bad about missing the date, it was just that for now, getting the silent treatment was easier than having the conversation that he hadn’t figured out how to have.

Normally they always went to the farmer’s market on Sunday mornings, but somehow Connor didn’t think that was going to happen today. So after he finished his coffee, he anxiously changed into his running clothes and went out, filled with a nervous energy that he desperately needed to release. Oliver didn’t even bother to look up as he left.

So Connor ran and ran for several miles, pushing himself to his body’s limits and then even further in an attempt to not have to think about the situation. He couldn’t handle all the anxiety that kept churning inside of him at the thought of what this meant and what might happen, and he felt like if he ran fast enough and long enough then maybe he could run away from his own mind and all of his problems.

He pushed himself so hard that when he finally got home, he ended up hurrying right past a wide-eyed and bewildered Oliver and into the bathroom, where he practically fell to his knees and puked into the toilet. He was shaking from the amount of stress he had put on his body during the run and his vision was blacking out on the edges from the abrupt drop in blood pressure. He collapsed backwards onto the floor, breathing hard and rolling over onto his forearms as he tried to recover. 

Oliver showed up in the bathroom a few minutes later with a glass of water and a banana. If he was still angry about the missed date, he did a great job of hiding it. Concern lined his face as he knelt down next to Connor and urged him to drink. It took Connor a minute to regain control over his limbs, but when he did he sat up and silently accepted the glass, gulping it down. Then he reached for the banana and slowly ate it, quietly murmuring his thanks.

It wasn’t unusual for Connor to push himself too hard on runs when he was stressed, because the adrenaline rush just took over and it allowed him to stop thinking about all of the nightmarish memories that usually occupied his mind. Oliver had expressed concern about how self-destructive it seemed several times before, but Connor always dismissed it off hand. He had never come back looking like this much of a mess before, though. Perhaps extreme exercise the day after drinking all day was a bad idea.

“Connor,” Oliver started hesitantly, because now Connor couldn’t even pretend things were fine. He had been avoiding conversations with Oliver by making excuses about work, but now his trembling muscles and sweat-sheened body screamed that something was definitely wrong. Oliver knew him too well for it to go unnoticed.

“Need to shower,” Connor mumbled, pushing his drenched hair out of his eyes with a shaky hand and purposefully avoiding Oliver’s concern. Oliver nodded and stood up, holding out a hand to help Connor up. His legs still shook underneath him but he managed to maintain his balance. Then Oliver turned on the shower knobs and turned around to peel Connor’s sweat-soaked clothing off of him. Truthfully, Connor could have done it himself, but he was too exhausted to protest so he just let Oliver take care of him. Oliver took his dirty clothes out of the bathroom and Connor dragged himself into the shower.

When he got out, he noticed Oliver had placed clean sweats and a t-shirt on the bathroom counter. He got dressed and left the bathroom, where Oliver was sitting on the bed waiting for him.

“What’s going on with you?” Oliver asked as Connor threw the towel into the laundry hamper.

“Must’ve been dehydrated.” Connor played dumb, even though he knew Oliver could see right through it. 

“No. You’ve been acting weird and distant ever since I told you I got a new job. You’ve been avoiding me and I can’t figure out what I did to upset you or why you’re not happy for me.” Oliver’s voice was quiet and filled with hurt, and Connor cringed.

He ran a nervous hand through his wet hair. He still hadn’t thought of any good way to approach this conversation, and yet it looked like they were about to have it anyway. 

“You have no idea how proud I am of you,” he said quietly.

“But something’s wrong,” Oliver replied firmly.

“Yeah,” Connor sighed, sitting down on edge of the bed and fidgeting with the blanket.

Oliver just looked at him with a frown, waiting for him to elaborate. Connor picked at a string on the edge of the blanket and avoided Oliver’s gaze as he tried to figure out what to say.

“You know that I do illegal things for Annalise on practically a daily basis. I can’t be in a relationship with someone who is in the FBI,” he finally said, hoping that this vague explanation would be enough for Oliver.

But Oliver laughed. “That’s what this is about? You think I’m going to turn you guys in to the FBI just because you sometimes use questionable methods to get evidence in your cases? Connor, I've even helped you do those things. I'm not about to turn you in.” 

Connor gave a frustrated shake of his head and stood up, shifting on his feet. Oliver looked up at him with confusion, but Connor didn’t know what to say or how to explain it without confessing everything, which he simply did not want to do. Any hope of this conversation being easy disappeared in an instant.

“I just can’t do it, Oliver. If this is what you want to do, I can’t be with you."

Oliver’s eyes widened in shock and his mouth fell open slightly. “Are you serious?” he asked incredulously. “This is completely unfair.”

Connor just shrugged sadly. He knew Oliver was right, because it was extremely unfair. It was unfair that he was stuck in this situation too. His heart was breaking to have to do this to Oliver, but he was trapped under Annalise and the crimes he had committed.

“Why are you doing this?” Oliver pleaded when Connor didn't back down, and Connor closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to keep looking at the confusion and hurt on Oliver’s face. He felt nauseous again, and this time it had nothing to do with running.

“This is about that other thing, isn’t it?” Oliver suddenly asked angrily, and Connor opened his eyes again to see Oliver glaring at him. “That thing you can’t tell me about, but that you said you could go to jail for.”

Connor swallowed and looked at the floor. He didn’t answer, but his silence was a confirmation in and of itself.

“So you expect me to turn down the job opportunity of a lifetime, and I don’t even get to know why I’m turning it down?” 

Connor didn’t know how to respond. There was nothing he could say to make this easier. Oliver looked completely bewildered and angry at Connor’s lack of an explanation for the ridiculous ultimatum he was giving him and Connor knew he had every right to be upset about it. But he also knew it was the way it had to be, for his sake and for Oliver's sake, because Oliver joining the FBI would put both of them in danger. 

Finally, Oliver spoke up again. “Maybe I can help you,” he stammered.

“What?” Connor frowned at the statement that abruptly pulled him out of his own thoughts.

“If you let me in. Tell me what’s going on and maybe I can use my new job to help you somehow.”

“No.” Connor responded immediately. The idea of Oliver getting involved sent massive waves of panic through him.

“But –“

“I said no.”

They stared at each other. Oliver was clearly trying to figure out what was going on in Connor’s head, and Connor was clearly putting up a solid brick wall to keep him out.

“Fine.” Oliver said curtly. “But I’m taking the job.”

Connor felt his heart shatter, but he refused to let Oliver see it. He just nodded and grabbed a suitcase and a duffel bag out of the closet, dumping his clothes haphazardly inside them, not taking more than a couple minutes to grab whatever was in reach before he was zipping them up.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this!” Oliver cried out as he headed for the door. But Connor didn’t turn around as he walked out. He couldn’t turn around, or he’d fall apart. Because it didn’t matter how unfair his ultimatum was, he’d expected Oliver to choose him. He’d expected Oliver to be angry and bitter and upset, but he’d still expected Oliver to choose him. After all, Connor had changed so much for Oliver. It killed him to suddenly realize that Oliver was not willing to do the same.


	3. Chapter 3

“Connor! Connor, stop!” Oliver was out of breath as he tried to keep up with Connor’s brisk pace outside the law school, following Connor all the way to his car. Connor had ignored every single one of Oliver’s phone calls since he’d moved out, unable to get over the fact that Oliver had chosen the job over him. So now Oliver had apparently decided to resort to waiting for him outside of his class.

He made it all the way to his car before he spun around. “Leave me alone, Oliver,” he growled.

Oliver flinched slightly at the words, but didn’t back down. “I don’t understand why we can’t talk about this.”

Connor just shook his head. “You made your choice,” he replied, before getting in his car. Oliver yelled something else at him, but he didn’t hear it because he was already driving away. 

Everything inside of him hurt. He ached for Oliver in a way that was indescribable. He’d never felt this kind of heartbreak before. But even if he could get past the hurt and betrayal, he couldn’t give in while Oliver worked with the FBI because he knew that it would put both him and Oliver in more danger. He needed Oliver to let go of him and to forget about him.

That was easier said than done, though, because Oliver did not give up easily. He showed up several more times in the following weeks in places where he knew he would find Connor, each time more insistent in his begging to talk, and each time Connor’s heart re-broke as he fled. It was really starting to wear him down, and he had trouble focusing on work or school or much of anything. The other interns had tried to console him and remind him why this was all necessary, but quickly grew wary of his moodiness and learned to just leave him alone, lest he take it out on them.

He had kicked out his subletter and moved back into his old apartment, but he avoided going home until late at night, not wanting to spend any time there alone. So tonight he ventured out to his favorite bar, ordering a whiskey that he hoped would cure his heartbreak for the night.

Some guy came over to flirt with him, and just like all the other nights where Connor picked up a random guy, his heart wasn’t really in it. The guy was cute though, and he figured it was better than going home alone, so he smiled graciously when the guy, Robert or Richard or something, offered to buy him another drink.

The guy was just leaning in with a hand on Connor’s leg to say something in Connor’s ear when Connor spotted Oliver walk through the doors. He looked away immediately, but Oliver was already headed over in his direction with an extremely determined look on his face. Connor inwardly cursed himself for coming to an old bar that Oliver knew, rather than going somewhere different.

“Excuse me,” Oliver said dryly as he approached, looking pointedly at the hand on Connor’s leg. “That’s my ex you’re feeling up and I hope he told you about my HIV.”

Connor rolled his eyes at Oliver’s blatant interference, but the man grumbled something about not wanting any trouble and quickly walked away.

“What the hell is your problem?” Connor asked angrily as soon as the guy was gone.

Oliver ignored the question and sat down in the now empty stool next to Connor. “You’re drinking?” he asked, gesturing to the nearly empty whiskey in Connor’s hand.

“Wow, you’ve been at the FBI for a month now and you’re already a pro at investigation,” Connor muttered bitterly.

Oliver was clearly concerned at what he considered to be a relapse to Connor’s made up drug addiction, but he didn’t say anything else about it.

“Connor, I need to talk to you,” he said instead, looking down and speaking quietly, all of the assertiveness from before fading away.

Connor looked away from the obvious hurt that was written all over Oliver. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he muttered, because aside from telling Oliver everything, there was no way for him to explain his side of things.

It was silent for a moment, but then Oliver looked back up. “There’s an open investigation on the local police department regarding Annalise,” he said quietly. “They have files on all of you.”

Connor’s stomach suddenly dropped and his heart began to race. He didn’t know which part of this to focus on or worry about more, the fact that he was being investigated by the FBI or the fact that Oliver was getting involved. He stood up abruptly and walked quickly towards the exit of the bar. For all he knew, Oliver was wearing a wire right now and trying to get him to incriminate himself.

Oliver followed him out. “Connor, where are you going?! Are you listening to me?”

Connor turned towards him in the parking lot. “Is that what this has been about? You following me around and harassing me. Showing up here, tonight. How did you know I would be here? Is it because you’re investigating me?” he asked angrily.

Oliver froze and his eyes widened. “No. Connor, no!” he said emphatically. “I’ve been trying to warn you!”

Connor didn’t believe him, and apparently he could tell, because he kept rambling. “I’m not on the case. I don’t even have the ranking to know anything about the case. I figured it out when I heard someone mention ‘the Keating file’ while passing my office, so I hacked into their servers searching for any information.”

“Oliver!” Connor hissed. If that was true, Oliver was now probably committing treason and who knew what other felonies. If it wasn’t true, then Oliver was trying to get information out of him. Either way, this was everything Connor had been trying to avoid.

Oliver just shrugged. “After you left me, I figured I didn’t really have anything else to lose.”

Connor took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way his heart ached at those words, and then turned and silently gestured for Oliver to follow him as he walked the two blocks to his apartment. Oliver looked at him anxiously, but Connor didn't say anything until they were both inside and the door was closed.

“Take off your clothes,” Connor demanded after he had locked his apartment door.

“What?!” Oliver asked incredulously. “That's not - ” 

“Prove to me that you’re not bugged.”

Oliver sighed, but stripped down to his boxers and handed his clothes over to Connor. Connor ignored the way Oliver crossed his arms uncomfortably and simply checked the pockets and examined his clothing thoroughly before unceremoniously throwing them back at him.

“What’s the investigation on Annalise about?” He tried to keep his voice calm and indifferent, but internally panic was racing through him at the idea that Oliver might already know the truth.

Oliver spoke quickly as he got dressed again. “They’re investigating the police department, technically. They’re claiming the department is compromised somehow and has been helping Annalise cover up crimes. It’s all a front to get at Annalise though. They can’t investigate Annalise directly because - ”

“I know how FBI jurisdiction works,” Connor cut him off.

“Right, sorry” Oliver stammered.

“What do they think she did?” Connor’s questioning was abrupt as he tried to gauge how much Oliver knew.

“They think she killed her husband, and then Emily Sinclair” Oliver whispered, and he was eyeing Connor, and Connor knew he was trying to look for a reaction so he desperately focused on trying to stay neutral.

“And what do they think we did?” he asked, and he could feel his poker face threatening to crack, because panic was invading every cell of his body at an alarming rate.

Oliver didn’t have a poker face at all and he looked utterly broken as he responded. “Connor,” he choked out instead of answering the question. “That night, when you showed up. You smelled like smoke, and… it wasn’t actually drugs, was it?”

And that was all Connor needed to know to know that, regardless of what the FBI knew, Oliver himself had put the pieces together and knew way more than Connor ever wanted him to. Suddenly, he couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Oh god,” Oliver muttered in horror.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Connor whispered, choking on his own tears. “I swear, Oliver. You have to believe me.”

“So Annalise did, and she made her interns clean up her mess?” Oliver asked angrily.

Connor shook his head and his defenses crumbled. The room felt like it was closing in on him and his breath wasn’t filling up his lungs enough. He choked back some air and tried to maintain some semblance of composure.

“No. H-he was going to kill Rebecca,” Connor gasped, as the image of Rebecca being strangled flashed through his mind again. That was all he could get out. He couldn’t even think clearly enough to form a coherent explanation.

“I don’t understand,” Oliver pressed, but Connor wasn’t listening.

He was back in Annalise’s house, watching Sam’s head get bashed in. He was running into Annalise’s kitchen and puking and coughing into her sink. His throat burned and for a moment he saw a flash of his own kitchen sink, but then he was listening to Asher knock at Annalise’s door. He heard Michaela yell his name, and he couldn’t breathe as he dropped to the floor, right next to Sam’s body.

“Connor!” he heard again, but it wasn’t Michaela’s voice this time. “Connor, look at me!”

He blinked. Oliver’s face was in front of him and he was sitting on the ground and felt something hard digging into his back. He flailed his arms and tried to move, not sure where he was or what was happening, but Oliver had him pinned down.

“Calm down!” Oliver demanded, struggling against Connor’s thrashing.

Connor gasped down breaths of air, his eyes still wide. Eventually, he started to realize he was sitting on his kitchen floor, and the thing pressing into his back was a knob from the kitchen cabinet that Oliver had him pinned against. As he stopped struggling Oliver slowly let go of him, hovering his hands over him for a moment to make sure he wasn’t going to run, and then Connor slumped over. His throat still burned and his body trembled, but his heart rate started to calm as he regained his grip on reality.

Oliver was now sitting down and eyeing him warily from across his tiny kitchen, still within an arm’s reach of him. Connor looked at him but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even know if he had the ability to speak at the moment, but if he did, he had no idea what to say.

Oliver just watched him silently.

Finally, Connor felt as though his body had stopped shaking enough that he could trust his legs, and he slowly pulled himself up to stand. Oliver followed him up.

“Are you going to call the police on us?” Connor asked, his voice hoarse.

Oliver still looked shaken up and possibly horrified, but he shook his head. “No,” he choked out. “I - ”

“Then can you leave?” Connor interrupted.

Oliver’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Connor,” he started, but Connor shook his head.

“I need you to go,” he said, his voice cracking. 

Oliver stared at him for another moment, distress evident on his face, but then he nodded and slowly walked past Connor and out the front door. As soon as the door closed, Connor collapsed to the ground again as he buried his head in his hands and sobbed. Everything he had feared about Oliver taking this job was coming true, and now Oliver knew the truth, which meant a line had been crossed tonight that they could never come back from.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think so far!

A couple of weeks passed before Connor saw or heard from Oliver again. The incessant calls had ceased ever since that night, and Oliver stopped showing up outside of his classes. Connor figured that Oliver, although apparently unwilling send him to prison, no longer wanted anything to do with him after knowing the truth. So Connor was beyond surprised when he showed up to work one day and Oliver was coming out of Annalise’s office.

“Hey,” Oliver muttered awkwardly, pausing in front of Connor, who was frozen in shock.

“Hey,” Connor echoed dumbly.

“Can we…” Oliver gestured to the front door.

It took Connor another moment to snap out of his stupor, but then he nodded and followed Oliver out. They walked together in silence for a few minutes, until they were a couple blocks away.

“How are you?” Oliver finally asked. Connor knew he was referring to the last time they had seen each other, when Connor had literally lost his grasp on reality in front of Oliver. But he didn’t answer.

“What are you doing here?” he asked instead.

Oliver sighed. “I was warning Annalise about the file,” he admitted.

Connor stopped walking and turned to look at Oliver. “Stop,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Don’t get involved in this.”

“No.” Oliver replied angrily. “Don’t you get that I’m doing this for you? So stop being an ungrateful little prick and just let me help you.”

Connor gaped at Oliver. He’d never seen Oliver be quite so… mean, before. Oliver’s harsh words just increased Connor’s bitterness, though, and after the shock dissipated he quickly became defensive.

“I never asked for your help,” he spat.

“Well you sure as hell need it,” Oliver retorted immediately.

Connor paused at that. “No, I needed you,” he mumbled, quieter and more subdued than he had been before. He bit his lip and looked away from Oliver, trying not to cry, but his tone stayed laced with bitterness. “I needed you and you decided you didn’t need me.”

Oliver’s demeanor softened at that. “Connor, that’s not true.”

But Connor just shook his head and took a step back from Oliver, the anger returning full-force as he raised his hands up. “Whatever. Just do whatever the fuck you want. It’s not like you aren’t going to anyway.” Then he turned abruptly and walked back towards Annalise’s house, trying to ignore the massive aching hole in his chest and leaving a helpless looking Oliver behind.

Unfortunately, Oliver didn’t stay away for long. The next evening when Connor showed up to work, Oliver was there again, walking into Annalise’s office as Connor entered the living room. Connor purposefully avoided eye contact as he went to sit down and start looking through a case file. Oliver came out several hours later as they were all packing up to go home, and Connor hastily threw his things into his bag and ran out the door before Oliver could approach him.

Oliver showed up several more times, in the evenings and on the weekend, hours in which he wasn’t required to be at his job. Connor had no idea what he was doing with Annalise, though he was sure it had something to do with the FBI investigation, but he tried to convince himself that he didn’t care. He could sense Oliver watching him whenever they crossed paths, but he went out of his way to avoid any and all conversation with Oliver. Oliver knew the truth now and he was still blatantly disregarding the pure fear and overwhelming hurt that he was causing Connor, so Connor wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

But having to be around Oliver all the time, even if he pretended to ignore his existence, was taking a huge toll on his mental state. He came home most nights feeling angry and depressed. He didn’t sleep well. He felt miserable all the time.

So after the first week of Oliver’s constant appearances at work, Connor suddenly decided he couldn’t do it anymore. At the start of the next week, he left his corporate law class, just like any other Monday, and instead of heading to the office he spontaneously went home. He poured himself a scotch, and then another, and he went to bed. When Tuesday rolled around, he woke up to several texts from the other interns, but he ignored them. He skipped his classes for the day and stayed in bed, once again not bothering to go into work. He didn’t have any classes on Wednesday and normally spent the whole day in the office, but instead he invited his best friend and old college hookup, Jamie, over. First to complain about Oliver, and then after they’d had a few drinks, to fuck away the misery.

Then, late on Thursday morning, late enough that he’d definitely slept through his morning class, he woke up to a pounding on his apartment door. He groaned, and felt the mattress shift next to him as Jamie also woke up from the noise. 

Connor wasn’t the slightest bit surprised Jamie had stayed the night. They’d never dated, but they’d gotten pretty comfortable as friends with benefits back in the day. They had started out as assigned roommates freshman year of college and had both been enormous players, having one night stands and sharing stories of their sexual conquests with each other. Naturally, their mutual hobby quickly led to a drunken hookup of their own. After a short period of immense awkwardness at being roommates and therefore being unable to treat it like just another one night stand where they never saw each other again, they realized they were amazing in bed together and neither one had to worry about the other person wanting commitment. That led to a longer term no strings attached sort of situation. 

Before Oliver, it was the closest thing Connor had ever come to a relationship, just without the actual relationship part. They slept in the same bed after sex, they talked about the personal stuff, and they were even pretty affectionate with each other from time to time. Since they were roommates, they even technically “came home” to each other. But even with all of that, both of them always knew that there was no romance between them. There were no cute dates. No saying “I love you” or “I miss you.” There was no jealousy when they slept with other people and no feeling of longing when they were apart. They were simply best friends who also happened to love to fuck each other, and they stayed that way until Connor moved to his own place for law school and met Oliver. 

“Sorry,” Connor muttered as he rolled out from under Jamie’s arm and out of bed. “I’ll make them go away.”

He pulled on a pair of sweat pants and stumbled over to the door, slightly hungover, ready to tell Michaela or Laurel or whoever it was to fuck off because he needed a break from school and he wasn’t going back to work until Oliver was gone. Instead he came face to face with Oliver himself.

“Oliver. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Connor asked tersely, crossing his arms and vaguely realizing he still had no shirt on.

“Shouldn’t you?” Oliver retorted, pushing past Connor and into the apartment without being welcomed in at all. Connor glared at him, but Oliver ignored it. “I just wanted to make sure you were alive and all, considering you’ve completely fallen off the grid for the past week.”

Connor shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Oliver looked at him determinedly.

Connor opened his mouth to argue, but he was interrupted before he got the chance.

“Hey Con, do you know where my phone went?” Jamie called out as he came out of the bedroom in nothing but his extremely tight boxer briefs.

Oliver quickly looked down at the ground in embarrassment and Connor half smirked and half grimaced at Jamie’s shamelessness. Jamie had never been one for subtlety, and he was fully aware of who Oliver was and that he had hurt Connor. So Connor knew that this was completely intentional and part of Jamie’s sick sense of humor as well as a misguided attempt to get revenge on Connor’s behalf.

“No, it might be in your pants pocket though,” Connor replied sarcastically, putting a strong emphasis on the words pants in case Jamie didn’t get the hint.

Jamie smiled a fake, innocent smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks babe.”

The bedroom door closed and Connor turned back to Oliver, who was now blushing bright red and looking anywhere except for at Connor. It even looked like he might be on the verge of tears. Connor would be lying to himself if he said it didn’t feel a little good to see Oliver hurting the way he had been hurting lately. But he also would never have intentionally rubbed a hookup in Oliver’s face like this and he mostly just felt guilty for it.

“Ollie,” he muttered, the guilt evident in his voice.

“Sorry,” Oliver said quietly. “I didn’t realize.”

Connor shook his head, because he knew that Oliver was assuming that Connor was dating someone, since he knew that Connor never let his one night stands stay the night. “No, it’s not like that. He’s just… we’re not… whatever. The point is he’s being an asshole.”

Unfortunately, Jamie came out of the bedroom again, fully clothed this time, right as Connor said that. “Hey, you loved my asshole last night,” he quipped pointedly. Connor grimaced. Jamie was his best friend and one of the most loyal people he’d ever encountered in his life, but that loyalty could also cause him to be downright mean, and at this moment, Connor felt like strangling him. He knew that Jamie was upset with Oliver for hurting Connor, but Jamie was definitely taking it too far for Connor’s liking.

“Jamie, get out,” Connor said in a low voice.

Jamie gave an exaggerated eye roll, but grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and brushed past Connor and out the door. “Call me anytime, darling” he called out in a sing-song voice as the door closed behind him.

Connor closed his eyes as the door shut, desperately wishing that all of that hadn’t just happened and that Jamie could have been less obnoxious.

“So that was Jamie?” Oliver asked after a moment of silence. Of course, Oliver knew a little bit about who Jamie was. Connor had shared stories with Oliver about his college memories, and Jamie had been a part of most of those memories. And the fact that he was part of most of the stories meant that at one point, Connor had tried to explain the strange pseudo-relationship they had had. 

“Yeah,” Connor said awkwardly, pulling on the back of his neck.

“I should go,” Oliver mumbled. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Connor nodded. “Yeah,” he repeated dully. He didn’t know what else to do or say. He felt bad about what had just happened, but as far as he was concerned, nothing had changed and he didn’t want Oliver around if Oliver was going to choose to be involved with the FBI or Annalise. 

Oliver hesitated for a moment. He acted like he wanted to say something else, but Connor refused to make eye contact with him and after a moment he simply turned to leave. 

“Sorry,” Connor muttered as Oliver was turning the doorknob. Oliver paused momentarily at the word, and then opened the door and left. 

Connor then made the executive decision to skip Friday, too.


	5. Chapter 5

On the following Monday, Connor showed up for his classes again, and then very reluctantly showed up to work. The sole reason he was there was because Michaela had texted him and told him that if he didn’t show up, Annalise was going to hunt him down herself. Little did he know, showing up to work meant he was about to get some major face time with Oliver. 

Within the first 15 minutes of showing up to work that evening, Annalise came barreling out of her office, where they could still see Oliver sitting inside. They’d been having another one of their mysterious meetings.

“I think it is time that you all know that there is an open FBI investigation regarding the murders of Sam Keating and Emily Sinclair, and that we are considered suspects in that investigation,” Annalise announced to the room. 

The other interns all began to frown and look at each other, but this was not news to Connor, so he just ignored them all. 

“Oliver has been reporting back to me multiple times a week to keep me updated on the status of that investigation,” Annalise continued. “I’m afraid the situation has now become too close for comfort. Mr. Walsh, Miss Pratt, I need both of you in my office.” 

Connor didn’t want to move, but after a moment Michaela nudged him and he reluctantly followed her in. He refused to look at Oliver as he sat down. 

“You two are going to be working with Oliver on this,” Annalise instructed. “I trust you will be sensible about this,” she said with a pointed glare towards Connor. Connor didn’t respond. 

“What are we going to do?” Michaela asked. 

“He is going to go over the investigation files with you and show you everything the FBI has found and all of their theories on the case. You’re going to point out where they are right and where they are wrong, down to the smallest details. Then, after you’ve picked out the weakest points of the investigation, he will do the rest. It has to be done carefully and you two pay the closest attention to detail, so the job is yours.” 

Connor’s eyes widened in panic. Going over every detail of the murder with Oliver was his idea of hell. Or maybe something even worse than hell. 

Apparently Michaela was panicking as well. “Wait, he works for the FBI and you want us to tell him everything?” she asked incredulously. 

“I have complete faith in him,” Annalise simply responded. 

Connor couldn’t do it. He refused to do it. He stood up to leave. 

“Mr. Walsh,” Annalise said angrily, causing him to freeze in place. “You will do this, if not for your own sake then for the sake of the rest of us, or I will make sure the rest of your legal career does not favor well for you.” 

He considered leaving anyway, but Michaela reached out to grab his hand and pulled him back down. 

“I will leave you all to get started then,” Annalise said curtly and left.

The room fell silent for a long and awkward moment. 

“Right, so um…” Oliver finally stammered, opening up a file on his laptop. “We’ll start with the basics. Here’s the general report on the file, with the autopsies and initial police investigations. We’ll start with the Sinclair case. It says up here at the top that they think the original murder weapon was a heavy blunt object of some sort. Maybe a rock or a hammer.” 

“It was a trophy,” Michaela said, clearing her throat and getting right down to business. Oliver nodded and made a note on a pad of paper next to him. 

Connor didn’t understand how this was going to help them. He didn’t think it was going to work. And most importantly, he couldn’t believe Oliver was sitting here doing it. He barely even recognized him compared to the Oliver he thought he knew. This Oliver was a federal agent trained in FBI investigations and talking about murder weapons and evidence and autopsies and taking notes like this was just another case. Connor did not like it one bit. 

But on and on they went, moving at a snail’s pace as they went over the FBI’s theories detail by detail. Michaela could clearly tell that Connor was not capable of dealing with this, so she did all of the talking, occasionally shooting Connor sympathetic glances for the obvious cruelty Annalise was bestowing on him. Connor mostly just stared at the ground as she reiterated the details, his anxiety constantly increasing the longer he sat in there.

“Okay, so they know the body was in pieces when it was found. They think that must have occurred at the time of the murder to make it easier to transport, so they’re assuming they’ll find a lot of blood traces whenever they find the murder scene” Oliver said, and Connor flinched at how he made it sound so casual and almost clinical, as though it was the same as talking about a TV show he watched recently. Connor assumed he’d probably gone over this file with Annalise multiple times by now, and the shock of it had all worn off, or perhaps he dealt with a lot of things like this at his new job and just wasn’t phased. But Connor had lived this trauma, so he didn’t have the same luxury of treating it like just another case. 

“No, we actually carried the body out in a rug.” Michaela muttered, and at least she still acted and sounded like it was a tragedy. “Connor didn’t use the axe until we were in the forest.” 

Connor immediately sucked in a breath of air and tensed at those words, reliving the memories as she spoke it. Prior to this point of Michaela’s story, Connor had mostly been a bystander in the situation. But now Oliver was going to know exactly how vulgarly involved Connor had gotten. 

He could suddenly feel Oliver’s eyes on him but he didn’t dare look up. He had never felt as vulnerable as he did in that moment, with Oliver being privy to that bit of information. His whole soul felt like it was unwillingly being exposed, all thanks to Oliver’s unwillingness to stay out of it. He clenched his fists tightly and dug his fingernails into his palm, and everything around him seemed to be moving in slow motion. He couldn’t stand to be here under Oliver’s gaze anymore. 

So he stood up and ran. He ran out of Annalise’s office and into the bathroom. He heard Oliver call his name as he sprinted, but he slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.

“Connor! Open the door!” Oliver was pounding at the door, only a moment behind Connor. 

But Connor couldn’t face Oliver. Couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. He was going to be sick. His hand curled into a fist and he brought his knuckles down on the sink counter, multiple times, hard enough for it to really hurt and probably bruise. 

“Connor!” Oliver yelled, knocking even louder in response to all the noise Connor was making. 

And suddenly Connor snapped, and he felt nothing but an overwhelming anger. He was livid with Oliver for making them cross this line that they could never come back from. He didn’t even have the capacity to think before he acted as he swung the door open violently. 

“Is this what you wanted?” he seethed at Oliver. “Are you fucking happy now? Congratulations. I hope you’re loving your new job.” 

Then he pushed past Oliver, not bothering to even look at his reaction, and ran out of the house and into his car. Oliver ran out after him, but he was already driving away. 

In the past, when Connor felt like he couldn’t handle everything, Oliver was the one that he would always run to. Oliver had been his safe haven from the mess that the rest of his life had become. But that safe haven no longer existed, because Oliver had insisted on becoming part of the nightmare. Running to Oliver as an escape was no longer an option, so ten minutes later he found himself hyperventilating and pacing back and forth and banging rapidly and insistently on Jamie’s door, anger still coursing through his veins. 

Jamie opened the door half dressed and with an irritated look on his face, and he definitely had a guy over, but as soon as he saw what state Connor was in he shifted gears and immediately kicked the random dude out. 

He dragged Connor to the couch and tried to inspect his bruised hand, which Connor impatiently pulled away. Of course, Connor couldn’t tell Jamie the cause of his current near-hysteria, but luckily Jamie also didn’t ask. He just instructed Connor to breathe and listened as Connor angrily spouted nonsense about Oliver and work and “fuck him” and “why did he do this.” 

Connor’s phone rang, and then stopped, and then rang again. But Connor ignored it, more focused on trying to grasp the basics of regulating his emotions again. After his phone rang for the fourth or maybe the fifth time, he finally went to pull it out of his pocket. Oliver’s face and name were flashing on the screen and Connor cringed at the sight. 

“Give it to me,” Jamie said softly. Connor put the phone in Jamie’s open palm and Jamie wordlessly hung up and turned it off completely before putting it on the table. “You can stay here tonight, if you don’t feel like going home.” 

Connor nodded and Jamie went to the kitchen and brought back a bag of ice for Connor’s hand. Then he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV to something stupid, draping himself lazily on the couch next to Connor. But Connor couldn’t sit still and couldn’t get comfortable and didn’t want to sit and watch TV or do anything that would allow him to think about what had just happened. So instead he just dropped the ice pack on the floor and twisted his body towards Jamie in frustration, pulling him by his shirt and roughly pressing their lips together. Jamie quickly smirked into the kiss and then pushed Connor, hard, causing him to fall on his back on the couch. 

“You know,” Jamie drawled as he leaned over and pressed his thumb along the lining of Connor’s pants up the inside of his thigh, “I never understood why you decided to turn into a relationship guy anyway.” His fingers popped open the button on Connor’s pants. “But this angry breakup sex thing is totally worth it.” 

Connor just grabbed Jamie’s head and pushed him down towards his crotch, not wanting to hear about or think about Oliver anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

Connor woke up the next morning dreading the idea of having to go back to work ever again, despite Annalise’s threats. He didn’t care about his legal career. He couldn’t give a single fuck about being a lawyer right now. 

But Jamie had known the old Connor, who was the most driven student in their undergraduate class and had always dreamed of becoming a lawyer, and he didn’t know the full story behind Connor’s sudden change of heart. So when Connor had foolishly mentioned that Annalise had threatened his legal career, Jamie insisted that Connor should not fuck up his life over a guy and refused to accept any of Connor’s excuses. Connor became incredibly frustrated, but Jamie simply brushed off Connor’s anger and continued to demand that Connor go. Connor finally relented, figuring he would just go to his classes to shut Jamie up and then go home without telling anyone. 

Which is how Jamie, who knew Connor far too well, ended up surprising Connor outside his last class of the day and walking Connor to work that evening. Jamie claimed that he was doing it to support Connor in case Oliver was there, but Connor knew that he was also doing it to make sure Connor actually went. That’s also how they ended up on Annalise’s porch, stuck in a desperate stand-off.

“I can’t go in there,” Connor mumbled as they stood in front of the door. 

“Connor,” Jamie said his name like he was disciplining a stubborn five year old, “you’re being ridiculous.”

Connor just shook his head. He was trying desperately to hide the crippling anxiety that was bubbling up inside of him, not wanting Jamie to know the extent of how much he couldn’t handle this. But he was frozen to the spot, unable to even fathom the idea of going back into that house and sitting down in Annalise’s office with Oliver again. 

“Since when does Connor Walsh throw his life away for a guy, of all things?” 

Connor pulled his lips into a tight line, avoiding Jamie’s gaze. He knew that from Jamie’s perspective he looked completely unreasonable, and because of that he had no good way of expressing just how much he could not do this. But he really, really, really could not do this. 

Jamie threw his hands up in exasperation. “You’re going in!” he demanded, reaching for the door to open it.

Connor panicked. “No, don’t, I can’t.” Tears suddenly welled up in his eyes as he crossed his arms tightly across his stomach and gripped the sides of his shirt, stumbling backwards a step. His mask was falling fast, and Jamie clearly noticed the change because he immediately backed off.

“Okay, whoa.” Jamie let go of the doorknob and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He looked around and then grabbed Connor’s hand. “Come here,” he said softly as he pulled them to the side of the house and away from any potential interruptions, suddenly very concerned. He had known Connor for several years, but he’d definitely never seen him cry before. 

Connor drew a shaky breath and tried to wipe away the tears that were now rolling down his cheeks, even though they were just immediately replaced by more tears. Jamie looked completely stunned, because the Connor he’d known was confident, even cocky, and dealt with all of his emotions through sarcasm and sex. 

“This isn’t just about a breakup, is it?” Jamie pressed gently. 

Connor shook his head. 

“What is it? What’s going on?” 

He just shook his head again and turned his head away. Honestly, if Connor were to pick one person that he wanted to confide in, Jamie would be the one. Jamie’s loyalty towards their friendship had never wavered in the years they had known each other and Connor would trust him with his life, but if he ever did decide to tell him (and that was a massive if) he definitely didn’t have the capacity to tell him now. 

“Alright, I’m sorry for pushing you. Let’s get you out of here,” Jamie murmured. Connor pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes in an attempt to compose himself, and then nodded. Jamie wrapped an arm around Connor’s back and led him to the street to hail a taxi. 

It was just his luck, however, that before Jamie could find one, Oliver’s car pulled up and parked in front of Annalise’s house. Connor tensed and Jamie glanced up to see what Connor was reacting to. He instinctively pulled Connor in tighter in a protective gesture as soon as he saw Oliver getting out of the car. 

Oliver obviously saw them as he drove up, and he was quickly walking over with a look of desperation on his face, ignoring Jamie completely as his gaze fixed on Connor.

“Connor, please, just talk to me,” Oliver pleaded as he drew nearer. “Let me help.” 

Connor stiffened a little more, unsure of how to react or how to feel, and before he had a chance to figure it out Jamie desperately waved down an oncoming taxi, which immediately pulled up to them. Jamie quickly ushered Connor into the back seat and then turned to look at Oliver. 

“Just stop. You’ve clearly done enough damage,” Jamie spat, before getting into the taxi and slamming the door shut, leaving Oliver standing there looking anxious and heartbroken.

Jamie told the taxi to go back to his apartment, but when they got there, Connor turned down his offer to stay another night. 

“I think I just want to go home,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, his eyes still slightly swollen from crying. 

Jamie seemed reluctant to let him leave, but he didn’t push. “Just call or text if you change your mind,” he urged.

Connor nodded. “Thanks,” he whispered as he left.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm determined to finish this fic before I have to go back to real-world law school, but it's taking over my life.

Connor felt numb as he opened the door to his own apartment and dropped his things on the floor. He felt so incredibly alone. He was super grateful to have a friend like Jamie, but Jamie wasn’t Oliver. 

But Oliver also wasn’t Oliver anymore. At least, not the shy and nerdy but incredibly kind Oliver that made Connor forget about all of the evil that existed in the world. He was tainted now. He was a part of Connor’s other world, the one he wanted to forget. He was edgier and less innocent and in his stubborn search for the thrill of being something beyond an I.T. guy, he had refused to acknowledge the ways in which he was destroying Connor from the inside out. 

So Connor went to his kitchen cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He didn’t even bother to pour it in a glass. He just took the bottle to the bedroom with him, needing something else to replace Oliver and make Connor forget about everything for awhile. He drank while he scrolled through old photos on his phone. Photos of the old Oliver. God, how he missed the old Oliver. 

At some point he passed out, and when he woke up late the next morning his head was pounding from the hangover. He rolled out of bed, desperate for a glass of water. He downed it quickly, and then opened his fridge to look for something to eat to calm his churning stomach, but it was practically empty aside from a container of butter and a carton of orange juice. Sighing, he closed the fridge and threw on a t-shirt and some sweats and grabbed his wallet so that he could walk to the cafe on the corner. 

When he opened his front door, however, he immediately knew he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon because a rumpled looking Oliver was sitting in his hallway. He had clearly slept there, and Connor suddenly had a vague memory of waking up to someone knocking at the door last night, but he had been too drunk and had fallen back asleep. Oliver scrambled up as soon as Connor’s door opened. 

“Connor, wait! Please. Give me 5 minutes!” Oliver begged, because Connor was already moving to close his door again.

Connor’s head was still pounding and he leaned his forehead up against the edge of his door, closing his eyes and willing his nausea away. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t finish closing the door either, resigned to the fact that he’d probably be trapped in his foodless apartment forever and forced to starve to death if he didn’t let Oliver talk. 

Oliver immediately began rambling, seemingly afraid that Connor would close the door at any moment. “Look, I know I fucked up okay? I had no idea what you were trying to keep from me when I took this job. I had no idea what you’d been through or why you were freaking out. I thought you were just being an asshole, but I should have chosen you anyway. I should have listened or paid closer attention or realized how much this was hurting you, and I didn’t. But I need to fix this. I’m choosing you now, and I’ll do anything to fix it. I’ll quit my job. We can move away. Just tell me what I need to do.” 

Connor shook his head. “It’s too late,” he muttered. 

“No,” Oliver insisted. “No. There has to be a way. I won’t leave until I can fix it.” 

Connor sighed and pushed the door a little wider, letting Oliver inside. Not because he was ready to forgive Oliver, but because he realized that unless they talked things through, Oliver would probably never stop putting both of them through this. Oliver tentatively came in and looked around the apartment, as though he was searching for something.

“Jamie’s not here,” Connor said as he closed the door, and Oliver visibly relaxed slightly. 

Connor felt way too hungover to function. He desperately needed to eat something and then lie down and not have this conversation, but he gestured to the couch anyway, following Oliver and sitting down. 

“You look like shit,” Oliver noted. 

“Wow, you sure know how to win me over,” Connor responded sarcastically, and Oliver gave him a tentative smile.

Neither of them said anything else for a moment. Then Oliver couldn’t handle the silence anymore. “You said before that I didn’t need you, but everything I have done has been for you,” he said in a rush.

Connor took a deep breath to remain calm, because he wanted to talk about this and not just get upset again. “You don’t get it,” he muttered. “I don’t want you involved, and you can never seem to respect that.” 

“How was I supposed to know what I was getting involved in when you just gave me that damn ultimatum and refused to tell me anything?” Oliver argued back, but there was no hostility in his voice, just an attempt to make Connor understand.

“But even once you knew, you kept going! You went to talk to Annalise!” Connor was struggling to keep the anger out of his response.

“I thought I could help,” Oliver said sadly. Then he paused, and when he spoke again his words were filled with hurt. “You could have told me, you know. You could have trusted me.” 

Connor closed his eyes to try and re-gather himself, and then looked at Oliver. “I did trust you. But I couldn’t tell you. You were the only good thing.” 

Oliver’s brow furrowed. “What?” 

Connor struggled to explain. “Work and Annalise and… Everything in my life fell apart so quickly. Everything felt like a living nightmare all the time. But at the end of the day I could come home to you and it felt normal. It was stable and it was... “ Connor paused, trying to find the words but unable to. “You were the only good thing,” he repeated instead. 

Oliver contemplated that for a second. Then he reached out and grabbed Connor’s hand. “You can’t just pretend this didn’t happen, Connor.” 

Connor wanted to argue with him and tell him that he could. That it could all be left behind in Annalise’s house and with the other interns, and not invade the rest of his life. That, just like when he went out running, if he ran fast enough and long enough then maybe someday he could escape from it all. But deep down he knew that Oliver was right. These things had happened and would be a part of his life forever. It was just a truth that he was never ready to confront. 

He didn’t really want to confront it now, either, and Oliver’s simple touch was burning his skin. It felt like it was too much and not enough all at once, so instead of responding he pulled on the hand that was holding his own and meekly pulled Oliver closer to him. Oliver didn’t resist, but his eyes were analyzing Connor, watching with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He reached out to tentatively run a comforting thumb along Connor’s jaw, and then Connor surged forward, kissing him suddenly.

Oliver was taken aback, but quickly responded. As soon as Connor felt Oliver kiss back, he pushed forward aggressively, shifting until he was straddling Oliver’s lap, and god, Connor had missed this. He had missed the taste of Oliver, and the feel of Oliver’s neck and jaw in his hands. He had missed the way Oliver’s fingers trailed along his sides and subtly pulled his hips in, and the way Oliver’s tongue lazily played with his own, and the barely audible whimper that Connor could elicit by biting Oliver’s lower lip and tugging slightly. Maybe this could be his escape anyway. Maybe it didn’t matter that Oliver knew because Oliver’s breath mixing with his own and his soft lips and strong hands could still make him forget.

Oliver grabbed fistfuls of Connor’s shirt and pulled and Connor let go of Oliver just long enough for the shirt to be pulled over his head before he was latching back on, bringing his mouth to Oliver’s jaw and neck and eliciting a small sigh as he re-memorized the salty taste of Oliver’s skin and felt Oliver’s hands tentatively tracing the crevices of his chest.

They were kissing slow, but quickly getting lost in each other. Connor was just re-learning the reactions he could elicit by sucking on that one spot below Oliver’s ear when they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Connor groaned into Oliver’s skin and slowly pulled back. 

“Ignore it,” Oliver whispered, leaning forward for another kiss, but Connor turned his head and put a hand on Oliver’s chest to hold him back, trying to catch his breath. Reality quickly crashed back down on him. He had given in to a moment of severe weakness, but this was a bad idea. His body craved Oliver more than it had ever craved anything, but he knew that doing this right now, with everything still so raw and unsolved, would only complicate things further. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Connor said quietly as he used every ounce of self-restraint he had to pull himself off of Oliver. Oliver sat up and crossed his arms uncomfortably at Connor’s sudden mood shift. Connor quickly turned and headed for the door, not even thinking about who it might be but just desperate for an excuse to remove himself from the current situation.

“Morning, babe!” Jamie said with a bright smile when Connor opened the door. “You left so fast yesterday. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and maybe grab breakfast?” Jamie looked Connor up and down after he asked the question, and then he laughed. “Or not, “ he smirked. 

Connor wasn’t wearing a shirt, his hair was ruffled, his skin still felt flushed, and his half-hard erection was probably visible through his sweatpants. It was super evident that something had just been interrupted, but Connor stepped outside and closed the door behind him anyway. 

“Oliver’s here,” Connor whispered urgently as he tugged at the back of his neck in agitation. He was hyper-aware of the fact that Oliver had clearly heard Jamie’s voice when the door opened and that he was probably sitting on the couch feeling extremely uncomfortable right about now, but Connor needed his best friend’s advice, or maybe just a chance to cool off so that he didn’t do anything he would regret. 

“What?!” Jamie’s eyes widened. 

Connor just shrugged and stared at the ground, dazed and lost in his own thoughts. 

Jamie silently eyed him with concern for a moment. “Connor, what is going on with you? Seriously. Is everything okay?” 

Connor let out a hollow laugh and shook his head. “Nothing is okay,” he murmured. 

Jamie looked at him helplessly. Connor knew that he was being vague and ominous and really freaking Jamie out, so he took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. 

“I have to take care of this,” he said, gesturing to his door and the fact that Oliver was inside. “Can we talk later?” 

Jamie nodded quickly. “Yeah, of course.” 

Connor gave him a half-hearted smile, and then went back into his apartment. Oliver was still sitting on the couch, looking at him anxiously as he walked back in. Connor made a point out of putting his shirt back on, and then purposefully sat on the armchair this time to keep distance between them.

“What’s the deal with you two?” Oliver asked hesitantly, as though he didn’t really want to know.

“You know that already,” Connor answered flatly. “We were roommates in college and - ”

“I mean now” Oliver interrupted. “I get that it’s impossible for you to keep it in your pants for more than a week. That’s expected. But should I even be here?” 

Connor rubbed his forehead and ignored Oliver’s underhanded insult. He didn’t know the answer to that question, but whatever it was, it had nothing to do with Jamie and what Oliver was insinuating. “Now isn’t any different. He’s just Jamie. He’s probably meeting somebody to fuck as we speak.” 

“You two have been spending a lot of time together. Every time I see you he’s right there,” Oliver pressed.

“Yeah, well, he’s been worried about me,” Connor snapped back, already over this conversation because he knew that it was a ridiculous one. “I haven’t exactly been a ray of sunshine lately.” His voice was mildly accusatory, and Oliver flinched back with guilt. Connor sighed, and made a conscious effort to soften his tone and ease the tension. “He cares about me as a friend, that’s all.” 

“He calls you babe,” Oliver sulked. 

Connor let out a small laugh, even though the situation wasn’t actually funny. He just couldn’t believe Oliver was getting so hung up on this when there were a thousand other real issues between them. “He calls everyone babe.” 

Oliver still looked doubtful.

“Look, I know it’s hard to understand because you don’t know him, but whatever Jamie and I have, it’s not what you and I had.” Connor looked away and picked at the edge of the armrest on his chair before mumbling, “You were different. You were everything.”

Oliver just stared at him for a moment. “Do you think we can fix this?” he finally asked quietly.

Connor shrugged and still didn’t look up. “I don’t know.” 

Oliver reached out across the corner of the coffee table to grab Connor’s hand again but Connor pulled back. “I need some time, Ollie.” 

“Some time,” Oliver repeated slowly, his demeanor brightening a little at the use of the familiar nickname. “So does that mean - ”

“I don’t know what it means,” Connor interrupted, before Oliver could get his hopes up. “I need to figure that out.”

“Right,” Oliver stammered. “Okay, time.” He paused. “But what about Annalise?” 

“Fuck Annalise,” Connor responded angrily. 

Oliver shifted uncomfortably at Connor’s vitriol, but tentatively pressed the issue. “She wants us to work together.” 

Connor shook his head. “I’m not going back there.” 

“But - ”

“No.” 

Oliver fell silent and looked up at Connor with defeat in his eyes. “If I could take this all back, I would,” he finally choked out. 

Connor nodded. “I know.” 

Oliver reluctantly stood up and hesitated for a second, putting a gentle hand on Connor’s shoulder before he walked away. Connor didn’t say goodbye or even look up at him. He just stared at the floor, unable to process the massive overload of thoughts and emotions that were running through his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a short chapter. I promise to try and update soon.

After Oliver left, Connor lost his appetite for food and his desire to go anywhere, so he spent the rest of the day moping around in bed. But around 8 pm, he received another knock at the door. He assumed it was Jamie, coming back to check up on him.

He opened the door in sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt and his hair still a mess. And he came face to face with Annalise Keating.

“Mr. Walsh,” she said curtly.

He scratched at the hair at the back of his head awkwardly. “What do you want?” he muttered, making absolutely zero effort to be professional or treat her like a respected professor. 

“I want to know what you said to make Oliver miss his appointment this evening,” she said in a low voice. 

As Connor processed the words, his heart ached in an indescribable way at the realization that Oliver had decided to finally respect Connor’s requests that he not be involved. But he remained carefully calm as he responded to Annalise. 

“I wasn’t aware that he didn’t show up,” he said.

“Regardless, I want you to convince him that it would be in his best interests, and yours, to not skip another one. I can’t imagine the FBI looks kindly on an agent compromising an investigation by leaking information to the suspects in order to protect his boyfriend that committed the crime all by himself.”

Connor stared at her, refusing to react, but she must have assumed that Connor understood what she was insinuating because she gave a satisfied smile. “Have a good evening, Mr. Walsh. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.” Then she turned abruptly and walked away. 

As soon as Connor closed the door, panic washed over him so quickly that it was like running into a wall. He swallowed and blinked and felt frozen to the spot. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t think or move or process or breathe. Then there was another knock at the door and his stomach dropped. Clearly Annalise had changed her mind and come back to torture him even further. He reluctantly opened the door again, his mind numb.

“Hey!” Jamie said cheerfully, but his face immediately dropped when he saw Connor. “Connor, what’s wrong?” 

Connor just shook his head and stumbled backwards, choking on his attempts to form any words. 

“Hey, look at me.” Jamie reached out to steady Connor. “Breathe, okay? Just breathe.” 

Connor nodded and tried to do as Jamie said, but his lungs wouldn’t cooperate. He pulled in a short and ragged breath and clenched his fists. His chest felt tight and he felt dizzy. 

“C’mon,” Jamie muttered as he forced Connor to the couch and sat him down. “Keep breathing,” he ordered. 

Connor put all of the focus he could muster into drawing air into his lungs. Panic still flooded his thoughts, but he slowly managed to get some semblance of a grasp on his physical response. 

“Okay, you have got to tell me what the hell is going on with you,” Jamie demanded once Connor’s demeanor had calmed down.

Connor glanced at him quickly and then stood up and started pacing. “My boss,” he stammered. 

“The woman I just saw leaving?” 

“Yeah. She uh… she… fuck,” he swore, pulling at his hair and looking out the window. Jamie just waited for him to get his thoughts together. “Jamie, I’ve done some really bad things,” Connor finally muttered, crossing his arms tight across his stomach. 

Jamie gave a small reassuring smile. “Is it worse than the time we crashed your sister’s car because I was giving you head while you were driving?” 

Connor just nodded. 

“Okay, but is it worse than the time - ”

“I killed someone,” Connor blurted out suddenly. He had no idea what possessed him to say it and his eyes widened and his heart rate sky-rocketed the moment it was out there. 

Jamie’s mouth fell open slightly and he frowned. “You…” he breathed.

“No, no, no,” Connor stammered. “I didn't. It wasn’t me who actually did it. But now my boss is threatening to send Oliver to prison.” 

“Connor, you’re not making any sense. I’m going to need a little more information,” Jamie pressed. Connor glanced over at him again, expecting to see horror on his face but instead being met with nothing but a very concerned and confused frown. 

Connor laughed incredulously, and it came out sounding completely manic. “I helped cover up a murder, Jamie” He said it long and drawn out and exasperated, because he didn’t understand why Jamie wasn’t comprehending this. “Two, actually.”

Jamie’s eyes widened as he finally understood and reacted, but that only served to heighten Connor’s own panic, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe again as he stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall and he slid to the ground.

“Hey! Breathe. Keep talking. Explain this to me,” Jamie demanded. 

Connor gulped down some breaths. It took an incredibly long time for Jamie to draw the full story out of Connor, because Connor was struggling to give coherent answers and Jamie didn’t know who anyone was or have any context, and he also had to keep pulling Connor away from the edge of panic attacks and full on breakdowns. But Jamie was patient and kept pointing out the things Connor was always forgetting, like the fact that it was to save Rebecca’s life, or the fact that Annalise had them all blackmailed, and how none of this was Connor’s fault.

By the time Connor had finally finished explaining, his mind was still running on overdrive, but his physical body had slowed down significantly. In fact, it was completely exhausted. It was really late and his body had been wracked with adrenaline for hours, so he was crashing and crashing fast. He felt dizzy and nauseous and barely even felt like he could stand. But all he could think about was that he needed to tell Oliver. 

“Connor, it’s almost 4am. You're not thinking straight. You don’t need to go right now,” Jamie urged as Connor struggled to look for his car keys. 

Connor couldn’t wait, though. If his body had the energy, it might have had another panic attack at the idea. So he shook his head and pulled a couch cushion up and onto the ground, stubbornly continuing to search and making a mess of his apartment in the process. 

“You can talk to him in the morning. The actual morning. When the sun is up and people are awake,” Jamie kept trying. 

Connor sat down on a kitchen stool in agitation. “I need to warn him,” he muttered, a tear rolling down his cheek. He was so exhausted that he didn't have any control whatsoever over his emotions. 

“Well you can’t drive like this. Why don’t you just call him?” 

Connor jumped at the sudden realization that he had a phone. He had gotten so wrapped up in his panic that he hadn’t even thought of it. He wiped the tears from his eyes and quickly pulled out his phone to dial Oliver’s number, waiting impatiently as he listened to it ring, but Oliver didn’t answer. Connor tried two more times, and both times it just rang until he got Oliver’s voicemail. Connor slammed the phone onto the counter and stood up as he immediately began to panic again. 

“Hey, stop,” Jamie said, coming over to grab Connor’s shaking hands and trying desperately to calm him down. “It’s super late. He’s probably asleep.” 

But Jamie didn’t understand. He didn’t realize how easy it was for people involved with Annalise to go missing. Like how Rebecca had just disappeared. Or even the time Oliver got temporarily abducted by a serial killer. Connor needed to know that Oliver was okay. He pulled out of Jamie’s grasp to look for his keys again. 

Jamie groaned and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. “Okay, well at least let me drive you.” 

Connor nodded and immediately headed for his shoes. He just needed to make sure Oliver was alright.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another really short one. Sorry. I've been busy but I'll sit down and write a lot this weekend, I swear.

Connor banged on Oliver’s door. Loud and incessantly. 

“Con, you’re going to wake up his neighbors,” Jamie said for the second time since they’d arrived, but Connor ignored him and knocked again, even louder. Jamie hesitated, watching Connor with concern. 

Oliver wasn’t answering the door, and Connor couldn’t cope anymore. He fell to the floor in a crumpled and defeated mess. 

Jamie kneeled down. “Don’t. We don’t know anything yet.”

Connor didn’t respond as his face scrunched up in agony and he pulled at the back of his hair. Annalise had already gotten to Oliver. Connor just knew it.

“C’mon,” Jamie urged, pulling at Connor’s hands and trying to coax him up off the floor. 

Just then, Oliver’s door opened and an extremely tired and irritated Oliver looked down at the two of them. Connor felt relief wash over him so profound that he probably would have fallen down if he wasn’t already on the floor. Instead he just broke out into an erratic smile and scrambled to stand. In his rush to get up he tripped over his own feet and fell back down. 

Oliver stared at him in confusion. “Are you drunk?” he asked flatly. Then he changed his mind and turned to Jamie. “Is he drunk?” 

Jamie shook his head awkwardly and looked at Oliver apologetically as he clumsily pulled Connor up from the ground.

“Ollie,” Connor gasped out as he regained his balance. “Annalise.” 

Oliver frowned at him. “What about Annalise?”

“You didn’t show up” Connor responded.

“What the hell are you talking about? It’s almost 5am. I have to get up in an hour for work.” Oliver sounded extremely annoyed, and Connor knew he wasn’t being coherent. His brain was shutting down from the exhaustion, and now that the panic of not knowing if Oliver was okay or not was gone, he had absolutely nothing to keep him going. Thankfully, Jamie took over.

“Can we come in?” Jamie asked. 

Oliver looked so taken aback by the urgent tone of Jamie’s question that his annoyance disappeared instantly. He just nodded and opened the door, gesturing for them to sit on the couch. 

“What’s going on?” Oliver asked in concern as they sat down.

Connor just leaned sideways against the back of the couch with a pillow to his stomach and let Jamie explain the situation, too tired to move or speak and just grateful that Oliver was alive. Oliver had an unreadable expression on his face, and he glanced over at Connor a couple of times during the explanation, but otherwise didn’t react except to treat Jamie with a somewhat forced politeness. When Jamie had finished telling him about Annalise’s threats and the reason for Connor’s panic, Oliver simply nodded.

“You should get him home,” Oliver said, gesturing to Connor. “I’ll be at her house tonight.” 

Jamie nodded and gently urged Connor to get up. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you,” Jamie said as he pulled open the door for them to leave. “I seem to have jumped to some pretty major false conclusions about the situation.” 

Oliver didn’t say anything, he just gave a half-hearted smile of acknowledgement.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are liking it so far!

The next day, Connor reluctantly showed up at Annalise’s house again. Oliver was already there with Michaela when Annalise led him into her office, but he didn’t look up from his typing as Connor sat down. They had already begun working and Connor resumed the same quiet stance he had taken the last time, jaw clenched and eyes focused on the floor, still not capable of discussing any of this with Oliver.

Michaela and Oliver worked for hours with neither of them ever asking Connor to participate, which he was thankful for. When they finally finished for the day, Connor lingered as Oliver packed his laptop away. He wanted to thank Oliver for the fact that Oliver had tried to end his involvement yesterday. Connor knew Oliver had missed the appointment yesterday because of their previous discussion, and that meant a lot to Connor, even though Annalise was forcing Oliver back in.

But to Connor’s surprise, once Oliver had gathered everything, he walked out of Annalise’s office without so much as a glance at Connor. Connor frowned and rushed to follow him out.

“Hey!” he said, grabbing Oliver’s arm in the driveway. “I was hoping we could talk.”

Oliver stopped and faced him, but didn’t say anything. His lack of friendliness was a stark contrast from the Oliver that had been chasing Connor ever since the break-up and it didn’t add up with Connor’s recollection of their conversation at Connor’s apartment at all.

“I, uh… I wanted to say thank you,” Connor pressed on anyway. “For, you know, trying to respect my feelings. Even though we’re being held hostage and all,” he joked dryly.

Oliver nodded. “Sure. Can I go now?” he asked, and his tone was cold.

Connor felt as though he had just been slapped in the face, completely stunned by Oliver’s indifference. “Yeah,” he stammered, taking a step back. “Right. Have a good night.”

Oliver turned and walked to his car at the end of the driveway, not bothering to look back at Connor as he got in and drove away. Connor just stood there in complete shock for a moment, before slowly getting into his own car.

As he drove home, he wracked his brain trying to figure out what had caused Oliver to go from fighting and begging for them to work things out to suddenly having absolutely no interest in Connor. The only thing he could think of made his chest feel tight and his stomach feel hollow. Tears prickled his eyes as he realized that Oliver had finally learned enough about the murders that he had fallen out of love with Connor. Maybe it had just taken him some time to really process it all, but now he saw Connor for what he was and he blamed Connor for ruining his life.

It had hurt when Oliver chose the FBI over him. It had hurt when Oliver continued to choose his desire to be involved over him. But all along, Oliver had still tried to fight for Connor. Now Oliver had given up on Connor for real. He might as well have just physically reached into Connor’s chest and pulled his heart out right then and there, because Connor felt himself shattering in a whole new way. Every part of him was breaking and it wasn’t something that he thought could ever be put back together. He pulled over and cried. He slammed his hands against the steering wheel and he broke. He hated himself. He had ruined Oliver and his own life would never be normal again and he needed out of this nightmare.

Connor eventually started the car again and arrived at his apartment building, but then changed his mind and drove right past it, completely unwilling to sit at home alone. He drove to Jamie’s apartment instead. But he hesitated outside of Jamie’s door.

He had already ruined Oliver’s life by showing up at Oliver’s door when he was falling apart, and if he kept showing up here he would probably do the same thing to Jamie. He couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn’t keep letting the people around him get sucked into this because they were all so caring and willing to help whenever he went running to them asking them to put his pieces back together. He needed to stop dragging everyone into this. He needed to leave them all alone and find a way to disappear so that they could live normal lives that didn’t involve murder and blackmail and corruption.

So something snapped in him then. In that moment he made the executive decision to run and possibly flee the country.

He turned around to leave, and instead he saw Jamie coming up the hallway to the apartment with some guy attached to his lips. He hesitated for a moment, and before he could turn and run the other way, Jamie pulled away to grab his key from his pocket and saw Connor standing there.

“Connor?” Jamie asked in a surprised voice, walking closer.

“Hey, sorry,” Connor mumbled, trying desperately to put on a casual tone, but his voice trembled despite his efforts. “I was just leaving.”

“Is everything okay?”

Connor nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets to try and hide how little control he had over his erratic movements. “Yeah.” He started to quickly walk past Jamie and the other guy. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.” He already knew that Jamie could tell he was lying, but he hoped Jamie would let him leave anyway.

“Hey, hang on a sec,” Jamie called after him, and he cringed as he stopped to turn around.

Jamie left the random guy standing there and looking rather annoyed as he firmly grabbed Connor’s arm and led them down the hallway and into the stairwell, out of the guy’s presence.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he turned to face Connor.

“Nothing, it’s fine. You’re obviously busy,” Connor said, gesturing to the stairwell door and the guy behind it and using every ounce of his energy to try and muster up a smirk in order to hide the fact that he was two seconds from falling apart again.

But he was clearly breaking, and Jamie saw right through it and shook his head. “He can wait.”

Connor shifted on his feet uncomfortably, looking away from Jamie and swallowing hard.

“Talk to me,” Jamie demanded.

Connor shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…” He trailed off, crossing his arms across his stomach and looking back up at Jamie, who was staring at him intently. As he did, he was suddenly overwhelmed with how much he appreciated the guy, who knew Connor better than anyone and was always willing to drop everything to deal with his shit show of a life. Oliver no longer cared. Oliver hated him. But Jamie knew everything and he still never even hesitated in his loyal support to Connor.

So before Connor even knew what he was doing, he had pulled Jamie into a deep kiss. They’d kissed a thousand times before, but it had always been kissing to initiate sex. This time was different. It was emotional.

Then Connor realized what he was doing and pulled back in a panic.

“Con,” Jamie said hesitantly with a soft frown, but Connor shook his head.

“I have to go,” Connor muttered as he fled down the stairs, leaving Jamie behind.

Connor made it all the way to his car, and then he broke down once again. He had no idea what had made him do it. He had never felt that way about Jamie, never even thought about it. Maybe it was just a desire for some sort of comfort, but kissing him hadn’t felt good or happy or warm. It just left him feeling empty and more alone than he’d ever felt in his life. It left him missing Oliver.

But Oliver hated Connor. He couldn’t stand to look at Connor because Connor was a monster.

Connor suddenly didn’t care. He needed to see Oliver anyway. He needed to see him one last time before he left.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I already posted this chapter earlier today, but apparently it didn't go through. Anyways, enjoy.

20 minutes later, Connor was once again barely holding himself together as he knocked on Oliver’s door. Oliver didn’t answer, so Connor banged even louder. Finally, Oliver reluctantly opened the door, not at all surprised that it was Connor. 

“Do you want one of the neighbors to call the cops?” he hissed angrily, pulling Connor inside. 

Connor didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He was silently choking on his own tears as he clenched his fists and looked at the floor. 

“What do you want now?” Oliver asked impatiently. 

“Please don’t hate me for this,” Connor choked out, breathing in a small sob.

“What?” Oliver’s voice was softer now and sounded surprised at just how broken Connor sounded. All of Connor’s normal walls of anger and sarcasm were completely stripped away and he was crumbling. 

“I’m so sorry. But I didn’t want this, Oliver. I never wanted anybody to die. I swear. You have to believe me that I never wanted any of this. I need you to know that.” Connor was trembling and curling in on himself and twenty seconds away from collapsing onto the floor. Tears streamed down his face as he looked at Oliver and desperately begged for forgiveness.

Realization flooded Oliver’s face. “Connor, no,” he whispered. “I know you didn’t.” 

Connor drew in a sharp breath as more tears fell, and then he actually did fall to the floor, no longer able to stand as he sobbed. Oliver knelt down next to him and put a gentle hand on his back, but the gesture only made him break even more.

“I didn’t want it,” Connor repeated through a sob. “Please don’t hate me for this. I didn’t want it.” 

“Shh,” Oliver coaxed. “I know.” 

Connor didn’t know how long it took him to calm down, but eventually his sobs turned to sharp breaths of air and then his breathing regulated and he was able to compose himself and sit up slightly. He turned his head away, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable. 

“Sorry.” Connor muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to…” he paused and then shook his head. “I just need to know one thing, and then I swear you’ll never see me again.” 

Oliver’s brow furrowed at those words and he looked at him quietly for a moment, contemplating. 

“Do you want a brownie?” he finally asked. 

Connor didn’t process the question. “What?” 

Oliver gestured to the kitchen. “I just made brownies.” 

Connor let out a surprised, incredulous scoff even as he rubbed the lingering tears from his eyes. Everything was falling apart. They were being held hostage under Annalise and Connor was about to flee the country, but meanwhile Oliver was just at home making brownies. It was uncomfortably normal. But Oliver gave him a reassuring smile and held out a hand to help him stand up, leading him to the kitchen table and serving him a brownie out of the pan that was already waiting there. 

Connor looked at it like it was something foreign. It felt surreal. But he didn’t eat it. He didn’t have any appetite whatsoever. 

“Connor,” Oliver started to say something, but was interrupted as Connor’s phone started ringing. 

Connor pulled it out and immediately denied the call, before putting the phone on silent and placing it face down on the table. “Sorry,” he muttered. 

“Jamie?” Oliver asked stiffly. 

Connor didn’t answer him, not interested in even thinking about Jamie right now. “You won’t have to deal with me much longer. I just need to know what did it,” he said instead, his voice cracking. He was still shaking and he rubbed his hands together erratically. 

Oliver swallowed and didn't say anything right away, but his face looked extremely hesitant and concerned. “Did what?” he finally asked tentatively.

“What part of all of this made you finally stop loving me? One minute you were at my apartment and we were talking about trying to fix us, and the next thing I know you can barely even look at me. Which part of what I did made you realize how fucked up I am?” 

Oliver shook his head. “That’s not what happened.” 

“Well then what? Is it because Annalise blackmailed you? You finally realized that I’ve ruined your life and you regret ever meeting me? Because you’re right, if that’s what it is. You’d be so much better off if you never met me.” 

“Connor, stop,” Oliver demanded gently, but with an edge to his voice. “Please. Just calm down, and eat your brownie. Then we’ll talk.” 

“I just need to know what made you - ” 

“You told Jamie!” Oliver burst out suddenly, and Connor flinched and immediately fell silent. Oliver seemed taken aback by his own outburst, or maybe he noticed how fragile Connor felt and how close he was to falling apart again, but either way when he spoke again it was far more controlled. 

“You got so freaked out about me ever knowing the truth and so upset about it when I found out. You treated me like shit and made me hate myself. But then Jamie just shows up at my door knowing everything, and I just couldn’t understand why him and not me.”

Connor closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath. “I told you, I couldn’t - ”

“You couldn’t tell me because I was ‘the only good thing.’ Yeah, I know.” Oliver muttered, unable to hide a twinge of bitterness. 

“Oliver, - ”

“How many other people could you tell while you couldn’t tell me?” Oliver’s tone was no longer angry at all. It was just filled with pure hurt. “How many people got to know the real Connor while we were playing pretend?”

“It’s different,” Connor whispered. 

“But why? Why am I the only person in your life that you couldn’t trust? Even though I have continued to be willing to do anything for you?” 

Connor could see tears brimming in Oliver’s eyes, and it reinforced just how much damage Connor knew he had caused. How badly he needed to leave Oliver alone so that he could move on from the destruction Connor had wrought.

“Because I didn’t need them!” Connor said in frustration, and his breath hitched. “None of them. They could all think I’m complete scum and I would be able to get over it. I would be able to let go. But you…” Connor’s voice trembled. “I couldn’t live with the idea of you realizing...” He bit his lip and turned away, clenching his fists, shaking and on the verge of falling apart again. 

Oliver’s remaining hostility quickly dissipated at the sight of another imminent breakdown. He took a deep breath and then moved his chair right up next to Connor’s and grabbed Connor’s hands. 

“Look at me,” he demanded softly, and Connor reluctantly turned to look at Oliver, overwhelmed with guilt. “You’re not a murderer, Connor. You could have handled this whole situation a lot better, at least when it came to talking to me, and I won’t deny that. But I have never, not even for a second, blamed you for what happened to those people.” 

Connor swallowed and looked away again. “I ruined your life. It’s time for you to let me go.”

“Hey, no, look at me!” Oliver demanded louder, waiting for Connor to turn back to him. “You didn’t choose to be a part of any of this. But I chose to get involved, despite you begging me not to. I mean, c’mon. You did everything to keep me away. You sacrificed our whole relationship to try and save me and I was still too stubborn. This is on me, not you. None of this is your fault. Do you understand?” 

“Ollie…” Connor’s voice cracked even harder than before and he couldn’t say anything further. Everything inside of him was shattering and he looked at Oliver with pleading eyes, silently begging for Oliver to put him back together somehow.

Oliver leaned in and kissed him then, slow but desperate, and so familiar to Connor. For a moment it felt like Oliver’s lips might have the potential to fix every crack inside of him and Connor knew he didn’t deserve it. Connor reached up and grazed his fingers along Oliver’s jaw, but Oliver pulled back far too soon for Connor’s liking. 

“Will you eat your brownie?” he demanded with a soft smile. “I swear you’ve lost ten pounds in the past month.” 

Connor didn’t even process what Oliver was saying. He couldn’t understand why Oliver was talking. He just shook his head at the noise and surged forward, grabbing the back of Oliver’s neck and kissing him again. He wasn’t ready to give up that comfort just yet, especially when he had gone without it for so long and soon would never be able to have it again. He felt more hot tears roll down his cheeks as they kissed, and when he finally pulled back Oliver wiped them away with his thumbs. 

“Connor,” Oliver whispered, his voice sounding like he was holding back tears of his own, “please don’t…” he faltered, as though he wasn’t sure what to say. “Please just come home,” he finally said instead.

The request felt like it was burning a hole in Connor’s chest. He wanted nothing more than a happy life with Oliver, but he couldn’t have that. Not with Annalise holding them hostage and open murder investigations and Oliver committing treason. Connor had planned to skip town tonight and disappear. But Oliver’s eyes were begging him to stay, and it was impossible to resist.

Connor hesitated, and then nodded, despite everything screaming at him to leave Oliver alone. Maybe he could stay here, just for one last night.

Oliver breathed out a sigh of relief and kissed his forehead. Then he glared pointedly at the brownie on the table. 

Connor ignored the brownie and leaned forward, burying his face in Oliver’s neck. Oliver quickly wrapped his arms around him. Connor knew Oliver was just trying to lighten the mood with the talk about the brownie, but everything inside of him just felt raw and hollowed out, like everything that had been happening lately had finally left him empty.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All done! I wrote a fun little epilogue based on another tumblr prompt that I'll be posting soon, and it's completely angst free. Let me know what you all thought of this!

When the alarm blared for the third time after being snoozed, Oliver reached to turn it off and Connor curled further into him, pressing his face into Oliver’s skin, unwilling to face the outside world just yet. 

“Connor, I have to go to work,” Oliver whispered, but Connor didn’t respond. He refused to let go of him and refused to move. Oliver ran his fingers up and down his arm lightly. “I have to get up,” he tried again with a breathy laugh. Connor held him tighter. 

“Connor, seriously.” 

Oliver’s voice had an edge of annoyance now, and Connor tensed before he reluctantly rolled off of him and turned to his other side, curling up under the blanket and biting back tears. He hadn’t slept much, but he had spent the night safe in Oliver’s arms. Now that Oliver was getting up, there wasn’t a single part of him that was ready to face another day in a world that he had to share with Annalise. A world where he would have to leave Oliver. 

“Don’t you have class this morning?” Oliver asked softly, clearly realizing that Connor wasn’t just fooling around and trying to smooth over whatever damage he had unintentionally caused by snapping at him. But Connor was trembling as he fought back his tears and a hole was widening in his chest and he couldn’t respond. If he said anything, then Oliver would figure it out and would beg him not to leave, and then it would be impossible to go. At Connor’s silence, Oliver sighed and got out of bed. 

Connor could hear him pattering around the room, and he eventually heard the shower turn on, but he still refused to move. He felt physically and mentally incapable of doing so. He had to get out. He had to leave Oliver and all of this behind, so that Oliver could have a normal life. But all he wanted to do was lie in the bed he shared with Oliver forever. The rest of the world could just fuck off. 

Oliver came back to the side of the bed and kneeled down in front of him, dressed in his suit and badge. Connor just stared at him blankly. 

“We’re going to figure this all out, okay?” Oliver said gently, reaching out to brush Connor’s hair off his forehead. “I’m going to get us out of this. And then we can move far away and put this behind us forever. I just need you to hang in there.” 

Connor closed his eyes. He didn’t believe the promises Oliver was making were possible, but for now his gentle touch and the soothing sound of his voice were all he could focus on anyway. 

“Are you going to be okay here?” Oliver asked. “Do you want me to swing by and pick you up before we go over this evening?”

Connor physically cringed, curling into himself a little more, at the question. He didn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t look at Oliver while knowing he wouldn’t be here when Oliver got back. 

Oliver leaned in and kissed his forehead, lingering for a long second, and then stood up. Connor could hear his footsteps as he walked away. Connor just reached behind him and grabbed Oliver’s pillow, hugging it to his chest and breathing in Oliver’s smell. He needed to stay here just a little while longer.

“Hey, get the fuck out of bed!” Jamie’s voice rang through Connor’s ears, waking him up from a fitful dream about Oliver, and he frowned in confusion. He rolled over, and sure enough, Jamie was standing in the bedroom doorway of Oliver’s apartment. Connor had no idea how long he’d been asleep for or why on earth Jamie was here or how he’d gotten in. 

“What the hell Connor?” he asked angrily. Connor sat up and wondered the same thing, trying to gain some grasp on this absurd situation. But Jamie kept yelling.

“You show up last night looking like a complete wreck, you fucking kiss me, and then you just disappear?! You don’t answer your phone and leave me to worry about you all goddamn night, and then, get this, I get a call this morning from your number and I think you’re finally calling to explain it to me but instead it’s Oliver of all people! And he tells me he’s afraid to leave you alone in the apartment because he claims you kept saying really cryptic things last night and were practically unresponsive this morning and he thinks you might be planning to hurt yourself!” 

Connor grimaced. He couldn’t believe Oliver had called Jamie, which meant Connor was trapped for the time being. A significant part of him felt relieved that he couldn’t run, even though he still felt like he had to. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor muttered, avoiding looking at Jamie and resigning himself to the situation for now. “The kiss. I didn’t mean it.” 

“Well no shit you didn’t mean it,” Jamie retorted, coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know a lot of things, but one certainty I’ve always had in life is that Connor Walsh is not going to fall in love with me. But that’s definitely not the most pressing concern at the moment. What’s going on with you?” 

Connor shrugged. He didn’t have the capacity to deal with this conversation or try to explain that Oliver was wrong, and he knew Jamie wouldn’t believe him if he tried to deny anything anyway. 

“Well don’t worry, since I’ve been given babysitting duty, you’ll have plenty of time to talk,” Jamie snapped. He yanked the blanket off of Connor. “Now get up and get dressed.” 

Connor didn’t have the energy to argue with Jamie, and he knew Jamie well enough to know that it was pointless anyway. So he dejectedly got out of bed and dragged himself to the shower. He closed the bathroom door, but Jamie immediately opened it again. Connor didn’t care enough to fight it. He just slowly showered and got dressed, and when he came out of the bedroom Jamie was sitting on the couch waiting for him. 

Connor reluctantly sat down next to him with an irritated huff. “I’m fine, see?” He gestured at his own body in exaggeration. “You can go home.”

“If _Oliver_ is asking _me_ to come watch you, you’re not fine,” Jamie pressed, ignoring Connor’s hostility. 

Connor didn’t know what Jamie expected him to say or do, and he did not appreciate being stuck here with him, so he just curled up against the armrest of the couch and hugged a pillow to his stomach in a solemn silence.

“Okay, suit yourself. But I’m not leaving so it’s going to be a long day if we’re just going to sit here.”

Connor reached for the remote to turn on the TV, not actually interested in watching it, but just because he felt suffocated by idea of having to socialize or sit in silence. 

“Oh so now you want to watch TV, huh?” Jamie teased, clearly trying to get some sort of reaction out of Connor. 

Connor ignored him. He didn’t have it in him to talk or to argue or to do anything at all.

“You know, I bet Oliver wouldn’t have asked me to come over here if he knew you were secretly madly in love with me,” Jamie sing-songed. 

If Connor had been receptive to anything right now, he would have rolled his eyes at Jamie’s obnoxious sense of humor. He was clearly planning to never let Connor live that kiss down. But instead, he continued to stare blankly at the the television, feeling so overwhelmed that he felt numb.

“C’mon, Con. At least fight back,” Jamie said, and all of the humor had left his voice. “You’re freaking me out.” 

Connor closed his eyes. He knew he was being selfish. He knew that everyone around him was trying desperately to pull him out of this dark hole he had fallen into. Oliver with the brownies and Jamie with the teasing, both of them waiting for Connor’s snarky remarks and twisted sense of humor to come back. But he just didn’t have it in him anymore. He just felt empty.

“EIther you talk to me, or I’m going to call your mother,” Jamie said flatly. 

Connor’s eyes popped back open at that. The last thing he needed was for his mother to get involved. And he had no doubt that Jamie would do it either. 

“Please don’t do that,” he whispered. “I can’t do this to anyone else.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jamie asked in concern.

Connor just shrugged, realizing he’d probably already said too much.

“Connor?” Jamie’s voice was accusatory now. “Does Oliver have a reason to be concerned? Are you planning on hurting yourself?” 

Connor shook his head. “No, of course not,” he said firmly, making direct eye contact with Jamie so that Jamie could realize that he meant it, and hoping that would bring an end to the prying questions. 

But Jamie was analyzing Connor, and Connor squirmed under his gaze. Jamie knew him better than anyone...

“You’re planning to run!” Jamie suddenly exclaimed, and Connor cringed, which only gave him away further. “Fuck, Connor!” 

“Jamie, stop,” Connor warned. “I have to.” 

“Like hell you do.”

Connor just tightened his lips and turned his head away, signaling that he was unwilling to argue about it. 

“If you run, Annalise is going to pin everything on you. She’s going to turn you into a fugitive. You won’t ever be able to live a normal life,” Jamie implored. 

“Better me than Oliver. At least I actually deserve it.” Connor muttered. 

“No. No, you don’t. And Oliver doesn’t deserve to be left behind to deal with this without you,” Jamie said harshly. “Do you think Annalise is just going to let him walk away because you’re gone?”

Connor just stared at the floor. Jamie was right. He knew Jamie was right. But he couldn’t stand the idea of what he had done to Oliver by entering Oliver’s life and he couldn’t handle continuing to watch the damage unfold. 

“I don’t know what else to do,” he finally uttered, his voice breaking. 

“How about you stop acting like it’s all on you to fix everything?” Jamie pressed. “Let Oliver help, Con.” 

Connor shook his head. “He doesn’t deserve any of this.“

“Well, so what? You don’t deserve any of this either. Some asshole pervert murdered some college girl and then tried to murder someone else to cover up his tracks and suddenly you’re the one that has to pay all the consequences? None of this is fucking fair, Connor! But Oliver wants to help, and you need to let him.” Jamie hesitated before continuing. “You need to let him because you’re scaring me and I need you to come out of this alive.” 

Now it was Jamie’s turn for his voice to crack and a tear rolled down Connor’s cheek at the sound of it, because Jamie never faltered. If Connor used to be the definition of confident and collected, Jamie was always that multiplied by five. Even when Connor had confessed the murders to Jamie, Jamie had kept his calm. So to hear him breaking now served as a massive reality check to Connor, and after he processed it, he reluctantly nodded. 

“Okay?” Jamie asked to verify. 

“Yeah,” Connor muttered. “Okay.” 

Jamie took a deep breath to compose himself, and then his cool and aloof attitude was back as though it had never left. “So about that kiss…”

This time Connor did roll his eyes, albeit half-heartedly, and Jamie smiled at him gently. 

“It was very romantic,” Jamie jeered. Connor smacked him with the pillow he’d been holding, but he couldn’t help the way his lip quirked up slightly in amusement. It was the closest he’d come to a smile in a long time.. 

By the time Oliver arrived back at the apartment, Connor was asleep. He had promised Jamie he wouldn’t run, but Jamie still insisted on staying because he had promised Oliver he would. Connor was completely and utterly exhausted though, having gotten very little sleep the past several nights in a row, so he abandoned Jamie shortly after their conversation to go back to bed. 

He woke up to the sound of hushed voices in the living room and looked over to see Oliver and Jamie quietly discussing something. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he knew they were talking about him and he didn’t appreciate it. 

“Hey!” Connor called out grumpily, and they both looked up. “Get a room or something.” 

Oliver smiled at him, ignoring the taunt. “Come here,” he said, gesturing towards them with his head. 

Connor reluctantly rolled out of bed and walked over to them, wishing he could sleep for several more hours. Oliver laced their fingers when he neared, but Connor took it further and pulled him in for a deep kiss. After all, he had gone too long without being able to do that and he had a lot of kissing to make up for. 

Jamie cleared his throat. “I'm still here,” he said, waving at the two of them. 

Connor frowned into Oliver's lips and then reluctantly pulled away to acknowledge Jamie.

“We should really get going, Connor. I don't think we should be late,” Oliver said tentatively as though he didn’t want to say the wrong thing and break Connor again. 

But Connor just nodded, and caught Jamie's eye momentarily, showing that he intended to keep his word. 

“I'll talk to you later, Con?” Jamie asked.

Connor nodded again.

Jamie started to leave, but Oliver reached out and grabbed his arm. “Hey… thanks,” he said softly. 

Jamie smiled casually. “No problem, babe.” Then he turned and strode out the door.

When the door closed, Connor couldn't help the small smile that appeared at the use of the pet name. “Told you,” he teased.

Oliver's lips quirked slightly in a suppressed smile. “Let's go,” he said, refusing to acknowledge it.

Connor wrapped his arms around Oliver's waist, snuggling into his side as they headed for the door. Everything still felt heavy and scary and nothing was fixed, but Connor felt a little bit more open to the idea that he and Oliver would figure it out someday. Together.


End file.
